Finding beauty in the middle of our imperfections

Wednesday

Nov 14, 2012 at 12:01 AMNov 16, 2012 at 10:07 AM

I was 8 or 9 when I first fell in love with my gray trunk. It was sitting among rows and rows of things at an estate auction, and even then it was scuffed up from traveling in the 1940s. Its leather straps were worn. Its insides smelled like the pages of old books. And [...]

I was 8 or 9 when I first fell in love with my gray trunk. It was sitting among rows and rows of things at an estate auction, and even then it was scuffed up from traveling in the 1940s. Its leather straps were worn. Its insides smelled like the pages of old books. And I thought it was beautiful.

In the last 30 years it has crisscrossed the state of Oklahoma as I relocated for my first couple of jobs and even rode 1,200 miles to join me here in Rochester.

It has been in bedrooms, living rooms and dens, and it’s one of the few pieces of furniture that my brother-in-law has requested never to move again, even if I make him enchiladas. So, I took that into consideration when I decided that I was ready to part with it, ready to release it to a new home where people had more space and perhaps fewer children.

My husband took the old gray lady to the curb and drove off to pick up Chinese food. Almost immediately drivers started stopping to check her out and that’s when I lost it.

I called my husband and with a shaky voice asked if he’d consider lugging it back in for me. Without a single complaint, he promised to move it. That’s how much he loves me and how well he understands me.

One of his cousins is an artist who specializes in vintage pieces. She takes photographs of tired old dressers that have chipped paint, and through her lens they look romantic and peaceful. Antique sheet music turns into chic gift tags and a bowl of white buttons becomes a work of art.

I think God sees us in much the same way – finding beauty, hope and tireless loyalty right in the middle of our imperfections.

“I have always been drawn to older, worn pieces because they exude character, history and romance that newer pieces can never contain,” said cousin Alice Wingerden, who seems to specialize in helping us see common things in a new, respectful way. “I love the stories that they tell with their flaws and imperfections.”

Maybe the next time she’s over, I’ll show her my trunk. Something tells me she’ll approve.